


Summer Flowers

by Lucem



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucem/pseuds/Lucem
Summary: “I’ve missed you, Damen.”“I have missed you too,” Damen said, and with those words he felt as though a tension was unwinding from his chest, a relief he didn't realise he was so desperate for until it washed over him.Damen and Laurent have been apart for too long, so naturally they have to make up for lost time.





	Summer Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> My first Captive Prince fanfic so I'm not really sure how to write for their dynamic and world yet but I tried.  
> I know there's probably a lot of fics based around this concept but it's a good excuse to write fluff & smut.  
> Chapter two will be smutty don't worry, I was gonna post it all together but I since it's my first attempt at writing these two I feel more comfortable doing it separate & testing the water a little idk.

Laurent sat cross legged among blades of wild grass and scatterings of pale blue flowers, back leaning against the rough trunk of a tall oak tree that stood over him. The canopy of leaves stretched against the cloudless blue sky, providing him with a natural parasol to protect his pale skin from the harsh afternoon sun, and his gaze was lowered intently into an open book, brows slightly furrowed, so focused that he didn't notice Damen's subtle approach from across the wide, open gardens.

Damen stopped for a moment to admire his partner, watching as he shifted slightly beneath the glowing dapples of sunlight, rearranging his limbs into a more comfortable position on the ground, tiny flowers crumpling beneath him as he moved. Laurent looked beautiful, his hair tumbling over his shoulder in gentle waves, golden against the pale white of his shirt, his blue eyes soft, shaded beneath the shadow of his delicate lashes. It was rare to see him as unwound as this, his posture completely relaxed, his expression unguarded, and it only added to his beauty, like a flower bud quietly blooming in a display of colourful petals.

He almost didn't want to interrupt, and took more than a few moments to take in the view, not knowing when he may catch a glimpse of Laurent looking so serene like this again. There were moments like this, gazing upon Laurent, when he wanted nothing more than to engrave it upon his mind the way youngsters might carve hearts and names into the bark of a tree. It made him feel young again, an awkward boy laying eyes upon someone beautiful for the first time in his life and feeling desire, that relentless, hopeless, heart pounding, cheeks blazing, breathe stealing desire that made him think he was falling in love.

Only this time he really had fallen in love. Slowly and gradually, yet recklessly and helplessly, as though he had made the grueling, difficult climb to a mountain's peak, and while taking in the view he had stumbled over the edge, tumbling farther and farther, deeper and deeper, with no way to stop and think about what lay in wait for him when he finally crashed, full force, into ground below. He had never imagined love to feel like this, burning low and steady in the gentle glow of a flame, as well as ferocious and turbulent in the fire of an uncontrollable blaze, scorching everything in its path. He couldn't imagine it any other way now.

A few moments passed before he spoke softly, hoping it wouldn't startle him too much. "Laurent." Those blue eyes flickered away from the pages and rested on him now, widening only slightly in surprise. He seemed to go still for a moment, dropping the book onto his lap, where it closed in on itself, and faintly a smile formed on his perfect lips. "Damen," he answered, eyes narrowing slightly against the glare of sunlight that silhouetted the Akielon King.

“Don't stop reading on my account,” Damen commented with a nodding gesture toward the book, crossing over into the swaying shadow of the leaves. He felt as though he was crossing a threshold into their own little world, a small piece of reality carefully carved into a shape that had space only for the two of them, tucked away in some corner far from everything and everyone else. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat, the light pounding in his ears, and of Laurent, gazing up at him with those eyes like a sunlit ocean.

A moment of silence, and then, “You have returned early. Should I be concerned?” Laurent asked, voice calm as he regained the composure which he had lost, only for a brief moment. His usual demeanor quickly returned, his reactions to the world around him becoming muted, suppressed through years of habit, although a little less restricted than they would have been around anyone else.

“Negotiations broke down. We're at war,” Damen replied, lips working up into a small smile.

“Oh? You seem awfully calm for a man at war,” Laurent's voice was light, playful.

“That’s because I have you by my side,” he replied. He knew it was silly, sentimental drivel, and yet Laurent's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, a soft dusting of rose pink, and at that reaction, Damen felt a light headed giddiness, a flutter of his heart.

“How did it really go?” he asked, glancing at Damen sideways through the soft wisps of his pale eyelashes, watching as he moved to sit next him. The long blades of grass were crushed beneath the thick muscle of his bare legs as he crossed them beneath himself, imitating Laurent's pose.

“Fine. Everything ran smoothly and we managed to return two days ahead of schedule.” Damen explained, shuffling on the ground in an attempt to leave no space between them, the folds of his white chiton crumpling around his legs, probably getting covered in grass and dirt. “That's good to hear,” Laurent said, gently leaning his head into Damen’s shoulder, feeling the same about closing the distance. It had been far too long since they had touched. “I’ve missed you, Damen.”

“I have missed you too,” Damen said, and with those words he felt as though a tension was unwinding from his chest, a relief he didn't realise he was so desperate for until it washed over him. They had never been separated for so long, not since the day they had met, he realised, and honestly he had gotten so used to having Laurent by his side, or rather being by Laurent's side, that he felt entirely lost without him, as though a piece of himself was somehow absent too. It was hard to imagine Laurent, always so perfectly composed, always sharp and scheming, to feel that same disorientation without Damen by his side, and yet he suspected the feeling was mutual.

"What were you reading?" he asked, as Laurent lifted the book carefully from his lap and placed it on the ground next to him, before shuffling back around and curling into Damen's side, head resting in a perfect fit beneath the crook of his neck, ear pressed against his chest, listening for the soft thump of his heart. "Akielon poetry," he answered, the words fading into a soft sigh as Damen began gently curling his fingers through his hair, brushing the nape of his neck.

  
"For a nation of barbarians, your people can write beautifully, especially when it comes to wars and fucking," Laurent said with an air of carefree teasing. He closed his eyes against the soft touch of Damen's fingers on the back of his head, the hot uneven breathe whispering against the top of his hair, the trembling of Damen's warm chest beneath him as he chuckled quietly. "At least when it comes to fucking, we only write about it," he replied. "instead of having public displays."

Laurent pulled back from him to shoot him a mock glare, blue eyes like ice beneath his pale lashes, and even though Damen knew it wasn't serious, he still felt that glare like daggers boring into his flesh. Maybe it was that look, that signature cold bitch Laurent look, that finally urged him to press forward, run his hands through the soft silk of Laurent's curls, press them against the flushed skin of his face, and finally kiss him for the first time in weeks.

It was a perfect kiss, a balance of desperation and longing from their unbearable time apart, but also a soft, delicate passion, their lips sliding together in flawless harmony, Damen's hand travelling up the nape of Laurent's neck, through his long blond hair, the other pressing against the small of his back, urging him to come closer and completely close the gap between them until he was climbing upon him to rest on his lap, soft noises falling from his lips.

The kiss naturally deepened, a gradual progression that occurred without either of them really thinking about it. They were both so used to it by now. The curved shape of each other's lips as they slid together, interlocking perfectly, blissfully. The sweet, wet taste of each other's tongues, gently flicking over lips and into mouths, tasting and exploring with purpose. The small noises that came out in breaths between them, only feeding into one and other's desire as the world around them faded into the gentle warmth of the sunlight. It was on instinct they moved and shifted against each other, bodies entwining in a tangle of gasping sounds and roaming hands as they naturally fell into a slow steady rhythm of rocking together.

"I love you," Damen's voice was low, ragged, his lips still on the corner of Laurent's mouth as he spoke, his breath a warm and delicate sensation on his lips. "I love you too," Laurent's response was an almost shy murmur, his voice trembling as he spoke, his hands tightening into the curves between Damen's neck and shoulders. "I love you so much," he said, leaning his head forward and catching Damen's lips in a series of slow, tender kisses, focusing acutely on his upper lip, then moving down to his lower lip, just enjoying the feel of slow, hazy kisses now that the initial flame of desperation was gone.

When their lips finally separated, Damen let out a small, breathless chuckle, fingers curling into the golden ribbons of Laurent's hair, hand cupping the smooth pale skin of his face. His skin was hot, slightly damp, his high cheeks a little flushed, his eyes gleaming like gentle sea blue pearls. "You're staring at me," Laurent observed, voice slightly uneven.

"You're staring at me," Damen replied. Laurent seemed to shake a little before letting out a small burst of laughter. "You're holding my face," he said, gaze lowering to Damen's fingers on his cheeks. Then slowly he began to shift, as though to remove himself from Damen's lap. Damen sensed his intentions to move away immediately, and almost without thinking, had one hand on either side of his waist, holding him still. A pale brow shot up, and in response Damen asked, "Can we stay like this for just a moment?"

Laurent's lips drew slightly into a smile. "Of course," he said, resting his palms upon Damen's upper chest as he leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead, a delicate, fleeting touch of pale rose petal lips on dark skin. Beneath his slender fingers, he could feel the rise and fall of his lover's chest, the somewhat erratic beating of his heart, and the heat that seemed to be radiating from his body like it was the hot center of a flame. "Of course we can."

They had been interrupted not long after, a young guard whose name Damen couldn't quite recall, announcing the arrival of the King's entourage to Laurent, who only smiled in the face of the poor boys confusion and dismissed him. He probably wasn't used to this routine yet, Damen always slipping away alone just to return to his lover that little bit sooner.

  
"Unfortunately, I think our moment of peace has come to and end," Laurent stated, as they reluctantly untangled their bodies, coming out from the cool shade of the tree and into the hot, unyielding heat of the sun.

  
"It's fine. We can continue this tonight," Damen replied with a keen smirk.

  
Laurent didn't dignify him with a response, but the flush on his face betrayed his silence on the matter.


End file.
